Better than the originals
by theladyboffin
Summary: The next generation of the Avengers are here, and it's their time to shine. Can they live up to their parent's glory and truly be better than the originals? I suck at summaries, please forgive me! Through the POV of Cleopatra Stark, an arrogant, sarcastic genius not unlike her father, but she would never admit that. Rated T for language!


**A/N: Please review and i'll love you forever! I hope you like this little story of mine. **

**I do not own the avengers! (but i do own my characters)**

**~theladyboffin**

Better than the originals

Chapter 1

Cleopatra Leiko Stark

"Yo, JARVIS, make me a latte?"

'_Decaf, Your highness?'_ I crack a smile at the way I programmed JARVIS to address me. It drove my father insane, but he insisted JARVIS call him "Your supreme awesomeness" so I guess it just irked him that I had thought of it earlier.

"Nope. I need all the caf you got, Jarvi." I planned on staying up all night, I was working on my newest suit.

_'Yes, of course, your highness._' JARVIS replied.

I pulled my safety goggles over my eyes again and started tinkering with the controls of my suit. I placed the mini arc reactor in the chest plate and closed it all up. I was starting to get annoyed with having to make a new reactor every time I made another suit.

The model I was working on was my standard colors: Royal purple and silver. It was very shiny, having never been used yet, and I planned on using it only for leisure flying. It was lightweight, with no weapons. And it looked pretty snazzy.

Not like I ever did anything else. Even if I worked for SHIELD, they only deployed me on the simplest of missions. I felt stupid and worthless. Why couldn't I use my brain to my advantage instead of doing missions regular people could do themselves?

Dad said I would have to work my way up, starting from the bottom, but that's a load of bullshit. My IQ already matched his own, and I was learning more every day.

A few hours later, I decided it was finished (for now) and went up to my bedroom.

More like my own personal floor in the Stark tower. I had 7 walk-in closets, 2 full bathrooms, a guest room, a library and a whole room dedicated to video games.

I'm the first to admit that I live a very lavish life. My dad is extremely over protective of me, and I hated it. I was 16; couldn't I make my own decisions? Apparently not, even if I graduated high school when I was 11.

I scowled at the thought and flopped onto my huge canopy bed. I immediately fell asleep; it was around four in the morning.

When I rolled over in bed and checked the time, it was 8:00am, sharp. I smiled to myself. The tiny microchip alarm clock I planted in my head worked. I haven't told my dad about it yet, he always flips out when I "enhance" myself.

I walk into the kitchen to see Dad with a cup of coffee, reading a newspaper, almost like a normal dad. I laugh inside at the thought.

Not even glancing up he says, "Ok, spill it young lady. What did you do to yourself this time?"

"Nothing dad, what are you talking about?" I ask sweetly, putting on my best poker face.

"Cleo, I know alarm clocks don't work with you. And so I ask again, _what did you do to yourself_?" His voice steely, he looks up at me, trying to look threatening, but I just laugh at loud in his face.

"Why? Can't I get up early to see my loving father?" I ask, batting my eyelashes.

"Fine, I'll answer my question for you, since you seem to have forgotten _you planted a micro chip alarm in your_ head! What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was _knowing_ it would go perfectly fine, and it did. And now I can program myself to wake up on time. Now, is that so bad?"

"Yes, it is. You can't always be right, Cleo."

"You seem to think you can be." I shoot back.

"Because I always am." He says perfectly seriously, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

I roll my eyes at him and make myself breakfast. I sit at the table with him and sip my coffee (with extra, extra, morning caf) when his work phone buzzes angrily.

"Hello, you have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark. Please leave a message, and refrain from walking into my tower uninvited. Thank you." I roll my eyes again, no one ever falls for that.

"Too late." A deep voice says from behind us. I turn around, and see Nick Fury himself, glaring at my father with his one-eyed stare.

"You know what, Fury? One day it will actually be my life model decoy and you'll be damn confused." Dad boasts

"Stark, you think you can fool me?"

"Yup." He replies.

"Stark, I'm here to tell you that we're recruiting a few more agents. Five, actually. They're going to stay here, because they will need to be acquainted with you two. Especially you, Cleopatra. They will be your new team. " I almost snort out my coffee.

"That's funny, Fury. You know I don't play well with others."

"Well, that's just too bad, Missy. We're rebooting the Avengers Initiative, and you're in whether you like it or not."

"Ok," I say sarcastically, humoring him, "And who are these new Avengers I'll be working with?"

"You will meet them in time."

"Aye aye, captain." I say, saluting him sarcastically.

"If you must know now, you will be a part of the next generation Avengers. As you may be aware, all of the originals have children of their own, including you. So you will be working with them."

This time, I actually spit out my coffee, spraying my dad and his newspaper. He yells out, then just frowns at me.

"You mean," I say, slowly turning my head to my father, with a fake smile on my face, "I'll be working with _the_ Terrian Rodgers? The total all- American hottie?" Dad glares at me, being the overprotective bitch he is.

"Yes. They're all arriving tomorrow. So set up their guest rooms. And please do try to play nice, Miss Stark."

"Arg." I say, and Fury glares at me with his evil eye.


End file.
